Finding Home

When Cassy woke in the morning she wondered if the medication he gave her was designed to make her dream. It seemed like she had dreamed all night long, sliding from one dream to another. Most of them were vague and crazy, just images... her Master standing watching her, his beautiful white hair falling down his back, his marble white flesh just beyond the reach of her fingertips, opening his mouth to speak but no words coming out... her running down that endless corridor with the terror behind her but now she could see the Professor standing in front of her, a place of refuge from the nameless horror pursuing her... Windy nude and threatening, demanding sex and pain... Momma with endless plates of food demanding she eat and eat, saying love is food, food is love...

The last and only dream she remembered clearly was a long complex dream where she kept trying to have sex with the Professor but people kept interrupting them, walking into the room. She had been so horny in that dream, it was like she would die if she didn't get the Professor to fuck her. He did not seem like he wanted her all that bad. He kept talking to the people who came in like nothing was happening as she kept rubbing herself against him, trying to reach into his pants, rubbing at herself in a kind of crazy sexual frenzy.

Cassy was still feeling the same hot throbbing between her legs after she woke up. Reaching down she felt the hot mushy wetness oozing out of her cunt. She had never felt this wet before in her life. She sighed and spread her legs, letting the sensation of her fingers sliding so effortlessly over her hard swollen clit wash over her. She thought about her dream and closed her eyes, rocking her hips in time with the movements of her hand against her flesh. The feeling was deeper and stronger than she had experienced in her life. She felt heat and tension building in her legs and pelvic floor. When she came she allowed herself a long soft moan, the tremors of her stomach muscles throbbing in her throat. Her voice was soft and wondering, "Good girl."

As she quickly pulled on her sweats, Cassy thought to herself, 'so this is what all the excitement is about'. Previous to this she had not completely understood what all the excitement about this mystical orgasm was all about. She had wanted to be able to come because it would just have added to her value to her Master. The few orgasms she had experienced had seemed a poor reward for the amount of work they required. What she had experienced this morning added a whole new dimension to this sex thing.

Once again she was the only one up as she quietly headed to the basement for a run on the treadmill. "I have to get me one of these." She softly promised herself as she ran. Her room was tiny but she could fit one in there if he would allow it. A tiny spark of resentment bubbled up. Why did she have to filter every single thing through him and his approval. She stumbled in her rhythm and almost fell. She had not ever doubted him before and she hated it.

Cassy realized her conversation with the Professor last night had opened her eyes to the possibility that her Master may have imperfections, that it was possible that he could be wrong. It was the most natural thing in the world to give your whole life to someone infallible and all powerful. It was like faith or religion, but to surrender totally to someone who could be wrong, who is struggling with their own issues was frightening.

Cassy showered taking extra care to shave carefully and to condition her hair thoroughly. She quickly pulled on her uniform and checked her computer.

The Professor said he had scheduled her a session immediately after lunch. He also said he would try to swing by the library this morning and see what she had done. He noted that he was impressed with her letter, that she had expressed herself very well. He added that her list of things she liked to do seemed pretty short and he wondered if she could maybe add some things she would like to try.

As Cassy went down to eat breakfast, her mind continued to spin back to her doubts. Momma was busy in the kitchen. "Good Morning, Momma. The Professor said you were going to be gone for a couple of days. When are you leaving?"

"Soon, sweet baby, I am just getting some snacks put together for you guys to raid from the refrigerator."

"I had a dream about you last night. You were telling me that food was love."

"Oh you silly girl. Food isn't love. Giving food can be love. Cooking food and watching people eat is love for me. Sharing food can be very loving."

"That is probably why your food tastes so good."

"It is why I make sure my food tastes so good. I love making it. I love giving it to you. And I definitely love eating it myself." The rotund lady laughed as she caressed her round fat stomach and huge breasts.

"Where are you going?"

"I am going to visit my grandchildren. My granddaughter is having her tenth birthday. My daughter has a big party planned."

"You have children?"

"Yes, I had two sons and a daughter. They are all grown up now. My younger son was killed in the military. My older son lives in Paris. Thank god that my daughter is closer, only a few hours on the train."

"I am sorry to hear about your son. It must have been hard."

"Death is the hardest thing in the world. It tears your heart out. The Professor helped me learn to remember what I still have now rather than to dwell on what I have lost. Its a hard lesson. Life has no guarantees. Live each day to its fullest, you never know what you will have tomorrow."

"You are lucky to have a family. I have always felt so alone."

"It shows in your eyes sweet baby girl."

"My Master has never wanted children. I never really wanted to have a baby either."

"You don't have to have a baby to have a family sweet girl. The Professor has no babies and has a huge family of people who care about him. Families don't have to be just people who are related. Now I have to get going, you have a fun weekend."

"You too, you should bring me back some pictures."

"You asked for it. Now I will be pestering you with pictures all the time. Now you be good and maybe I will bring you back a piece of my special recipe birthday cake." Momma gave Cassy a hug and bustled out of the kitchen.

After eating Cassy carefully put her dishes in the dishwasher and carefully wiped off the counters. She was determined that Momma would find a neat clean kitchen when she got back. As she was finishing up the Professor came in.

"Good morning Cassy, did Momma leave me coffee?"

"Yes sir, could I pour you a cup?"

"That would be nice, just black please."

Cassy brought him the coffee and stood just close enough to smell him. She inhaled softly, savoring the smell of pipe smoke and a spicy piny kind of cologne. She felt a shiver of need and leaned back against the kitchen counter, her eyes looking down at the floor.

His voice startled her from her. "Did you sleep OK?"

"Um... yes I slept all night, but it felt like I dreamed all night long."

His voice sounded amused. "Really, do you remember any of your dreams?"

Cassy felt her face turn scarlet. She looked quickly up at him. He looked down at her, one eyebrow cocked and a knowing smile on his face. "S... some of them. I thought the medicine was supposed to keep me from dreaming."

"I never said that. I said it would help. It seems to be doing exactly as I suggested."

Cassy looked up in surprise and felt a little flash of irritation at feeling tricked. "You tricked me."

"Tricked maybe, lied never. Its part of what I do. I trick people into learning. I fool them into getting better."

"I was wondering where I could find some simple office supplies, paper, pens, tape... stuff like that. I want to make some labels for the book shelves in the library. And is there a printer I can use, I could make better labels if I could print something."

Cassy spoke hurriedly hoping to get the subject off the dreams. She did not want him to ask about her dreams. Somehow she wasn't sure if she could stand in this kitchen and talk calmly about her dream about him. She stepped to a more comfortable distance from him, looking in the refrigerator just for some excuse to hide her red face.

"Printer? No not down here. I could maybe get one for you by Monday. Paper, pens, and tape would be no problem. There is a cabinet in the front den with stuff like that. Dig around. You will probably find most of what you need there."

Cassy nodded, "I could hand letter the labels, don't worry about getting a printer. Thank you though."

The Professor watched her, his eyes measuring. Cassy felt like he was looking right through her, reading her more than listening to her words. "Sometime this morning I have someone coming by with a copy of your file from the treatment center you were at. They were on staff when you were there. They say they remember you. Do you want to see them?"

Cassy had to stop and adjust to this abrupt change of topic. "Yes, yes I would."

"OK, I will probably meet them in the den. Cassy come sit down I want to talk to you about a few things I know about what happened to you before you meet them."

Cassy nodded and took a deep breath. Her heart was racing. She sat down at the kitchen table and clenched her hands together in her lap. He refilled his coffee cup and came over. "Give me your hands Cassy." She obediently held them out. She could see a that they were trembling. He gently enveloped them in his, warming them, stilling their tremors.

"Listen to my words Cassy, you are here now. The things that happened when you were little were a long time ago and far away. It is OK to be sad or angry but there is no reason to be afraid. The people who hurt you, can never hurt anyone ever again. They are not alive anymore. They died in jail many many years ago. Your father committed suicide and your mother was executed for murder."

Cassy blinked, staring deep into his eyes, "Murder?" Her voice sounded strange and far away.

"You weren't the only child they hurt Cassy. Thats how they got caught. There was a body of a child dumped in a vacant lot. A little boy... The police finally figured out who had dumped the body and when they arrested your parents. They found you in the house. There was not much in the news article about your condition... just that you were alive and taken into protective custody. They found the remains of two more children buried in the crawl space of the house. It was a big news story at the time. I remember hearing about it when I was in school."

The room seemed to spin around her. She could not catch her breath. She stood and tried to jerk her hands out of his. "No, you have to face this Cassy. It is horrible and nothing is going to make it go away. I am not going to let you run away from this."

"They were my brothers?"

"I don't know for sure what the genders of the two bodies they found or the ages of any of them but yes, they were your siblings."

"Why?" Its was a deep wailing cry, torn from her chest.

"Why? Why is there evil? Why them and not you? Why are you here now? Cassy, there is no answer for why. There is only surviving. That is only triumph over evil. You are doing that everyday. It is the only gift you can give those children that did not make it. You have to have a life and live it for them."

Her voice was suddenly low and murderous, "I wish I could have killed them."

"Would feel good to get revenge on them?"

"I just feel so angry at them. They had no right. They took so much from me."

"You could spend a lot of time thinking about what you have lost or you could spend that same time thinking about what you have now. Its up to you to choose how you want to spend your life. Its up to you, victim or survivor."

"Fuck them. I did not die then and I am not going to let them take anything more from me."

"Anger is a good strong emotion to give you the strength and motivation to step away from being a victim. But it can be a trap. A life of anger is a bitter one. The best revenge is happiness."

"But those bastards broke my heart. I don't know what it means to be happy."

"If you choose happiness you will find it. No one in the world deserves happiness more than you."

"Does my Master know about this?"

"Yes, it is a matter of public record and I felt it was important for him to know."

"I want him to know, but I just don't know if I could talk about it yet."

"I felt it was important for you to know this before speaking to the woman who worked with you as a child. I wanted to hear it from me rather than learn it from some dusty medical records."

"Oh yes, you know I dream of being chased by something and running and running. I never see it but its horrible and I am completely terrified."

"Some day you will stop and turn around. You will find the strength to face it. It is a memory. They dissolve into nothingness if you deny them their power. Now go bury yourself into your journal. If you get done with that before I come get you, work on the library."

Cassy nodded and on impulse leaned against him, wrapping her arms around his chest, burying her face in his chest, inhaling the scent she was rapidly beginning to associate with safety and security. Her voice was muffled against his jacket. "Thank you. I feel like I owe you so much."

"I believe in fate Cassy. It was your fate to find your Master and he lead you to me. It was time for you wake up, Sleeping Beauty. Now off with you. I have a ton of phone calls to make and I am behind on some paperwork. You could help me by letting go of me."

Cassy giggled and let go. "Some day, I might demand a kiss to set you free, Prince Charming." Still giggling she darted from the kitchen before he could answer.

Cassy was still writing in her journal when he knocked on her door. "Ready Princess?"

She stood and curtsied. Somehow meeting this person had lost its sense of danger. After the news of this morning, she didn't think anything could ever get worse than that. She could face anything.

The woman in the den stood quickly as they entered. At first she did not say anything, she just walked up to Cassy and looked closely at her. Cassy looked back. There was a odd feeling of familiarity about this solidly built gray haired woman. "You don't remember me do you?"

Cassy shook her head. "I don't remember very much about my childhood. You seem familiar but I can't remember who you were."

A soft smile spread across the womans face. "You don't know how wonderful it is to hear you talk. At first you never talked, not a single word. The doctors thought you never would. We didn't even know for sure if you didn't have a condition like autism. It took a long time but eventually you began to use words, but with only a few of the staff. You would whisper so soft to us, always afraid to talk out loud."

"How long was I there?"

"I am sorry. I forgot to introduce myself. I am Janice Handler, I was a night staff when you were there. I still work there as a therapy coordinator. Lets look at your record." She opened a thick file. "You were admitted when you were six years old as best as they can determine. They had no birth records for you. You stayed in the treatment center for six years. They discharged you to foster care at the age twelve."

"I had no memory of staying there until just recently."

"It is not unusual for victims of abuse to suppress their memories. What happened to make you remember?"

The Professor interrupted, "Cassy is a patient here at my clinic. We can't have her revealing my secrets can we?"

"Well, you do have a reputation for doing amazing work with very difficult cases Dr. Wanderbourne, despite some of the... um... allegations of... um... unconventional treatment methods."

Cassy watched as the two professionals sparred. She could tell that this Janice lady was inquisitive about the Professor and she could tell he was not going to satisfy her curiosity.

"Can I look at the records?" Cassy reached for the thick stack of papers.

"Of course dear, they are yours." Cassy ignored the woman and looked at the Professor, waiting his permission.

He looked at her and nodded, "Go ahead, my only request is that if you have any questions you write them in your journal so we can discuss them. Treatment records can be filled with jargon and often have errors in them. Don't believe everything you read in them. Ms. Handler has already indicated that there was some question as to your diagnosis so don't read to much into what the doctors said."

Janice Handler stood and said, "If there is anything else?"

Cassy did not move, her eyes glued to the pages, "What was I like?"

"You were tiny, and so afraid of everything. The slightest quick movement or loud noise and you were off like a shot. I never saw such a fast runner. We ended up keeping you in locked wards most of the time. You didn't speak for the first two years you were with us. You slept under your bed most nights. You had a favorite teddy bear that you had to have or you wouldn't sleep at all. You were so pretty but you would never let anyone comb your hair. You never liked to be touched. Every one knew about your story, you being the only survivor of abusive parents. So many wanted to make a connection with you and no one could. You never let anyone get close to you."

"Thank you. Thank you for helping me when I was little. Thank you for coming out and talking with me."

"I wanted to come Cassy. I wanted to see that you had ended up OK. So many don't. And I had hoped Dr. Wanderbourne would have been kind enough to give me tour of his famous clinic."

The Professor laughed at her obvious dig, "I prefer to remain an enigma to my colleagues in the profession. Let me walk you out."

The gray haired woman stood, obviously irritated at being denied. "Cassy my business card is on the front of the record. If you have any more questions I would be glad to answer them."

There was a hint of steel in his voice, "And I am sure you will have plenty of questions for her."

"I can't imagine what you are speaking of. And anyway if you have nothing to hide, why all this secrecy?"

"Good by Ms. Handler."

After the woman was gone Cassy asked, "Why did she want to know about you so much?"

"I don't follow the rules Cassy. Yet I am very, very good at what I do. They hate that. It would be a huge feather in her cap if she could discredit me."

"I will never tell her anything."

"I have never had a patient that felt that they needed to tell what went on between me and them. I have no worries that you will keep my methods confidential."

"I think I will take these records to the library to read."

"You will find that they are a bit confusing, there will be a lot of conflicting statements in there. A lot of tests that measure all the wrong things. Every doctor will have a totally different opinion of what is wrong and what should be done. I have a pretty low opinion of main stream psychiatry."

"Aren't you a psychiatrist?"

"Among many other things. It lets me use the title 'Dr.' but I prefer not to be called doctor. I hate doctors personally. Professor is more accurate, it means someone who teaches and learns at the same time."

"You know when she mentioned the teddy bear I remembered it very clearly. I remember hiding under my bed and whispering to it to be quiet. I called him Steven. I wonder what happened to it."

"You outgrew it. It was there when you could not trust people but as you got better you did not need it anymore."

The records were just as the Professor had predicted. The admission evaluation was the most informative. She had been significantly underweight, suffering from malnutrition, nonverbal but able to follow simple verbal instructions.

Physically, she had evidence of long term abuse. X-rays indicated she had multiple untreated bone fractures throughout her life. She had extensive blunt force injuries indicating she had been systematically beaten. She had a pattern of scars on her back and buttocks indicating she was burned with electricity.